The darkness I encountered outside the dormer window surprised me. Without me noticing, Summer had ended, and Autumn had arrived in earnest: the air was now cold, and thick louds shrouded our fair satellite, so that it was hard to see about.
'Come on,' came Odile's voice. She was so close, and yet, it was hard to see where she was. 'We'll use the trellis.'
I quickly realised that Odile's idea was to walk down along the spine of the roof until its very end, then, using a trellis that sustained a wide spread of ivy along one of the walls, climb down.
This posed two main difficulties that I didn't struggle to grasp as soon as this plan was laid before me: first, if it was dangerous to walk at such height, on a pitched roof, on a sunny day, it was sheer madness to attempt it on a moonless night; second, to reach the trellis, one had to dangle from the gutter, set foot on the latticework, which, for all I knew, was rotten with age and quite precarious, and then climb down the two stories.
'Are you coming?'
Odile's voice now appeared more distant, which made me realise that my friend had already begun her walk down the slope of the roof.
'Fine!' I said.
I then began to head her way. I was moving exceedingly slowly, feeling the shape of each tile under my foot.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could now tell how far the edge of the roof was. Once or twice, my foot slipped, and I feared that I might tumble down the two stories that separated me from the ground. My legs were heavy and refused to move. Fear had made me clumsy and dull.
I muttered a few curses under my breath, but I not once thought it wiser to return to the celebration inside our dormitory. Such is the blind stupidity of a young person who feels bound to a friend.
When I got to the end of the roof, I turned back: the light of the window seemed so small and distant. Even the mixture of singing and laughing coming from inside our room seemed far away. I then stared towards the sky, unable to look down. Still without looking, I got onto my knees and searched about with my hands. I tried to feel under the rain gutter, looking for the trellis.
'Come on!' came an angry whisper from below.
'Odile?' I called out. 'I can't do it!'
I was now so close to that big drop that I began to panic: I was lying on the very edge of the roof, holding tightly onto the gutter, with my skirt hanging down and moving gently with each gust of wind. I then realised the gravity of my situation, and what a stupid choice I had made in following Odile. believed that I couldn't continue, but I was not sure I could safely walk back. The sudden realisation of the danger that was but a few inches away filled me with such fear that I felt paralysed, unable to move a muscle.
'It's easier if you put your feet down first!' Odile advised.
She was already waiting for me on the ground. Somehow, she had been able to complete that descent, that appeared to me so perilous, with great easy.
'You're not going to hurt yourself. But, if the headmistress finds you here, she will crack your skull for sure!' she said again.
'Don't leave me here!' I cried.
'Come down!' Odile repeated. 'There's also a pile of dead leaves underneath. If you fall, you won't even feel it!'
It took her a good five minutes to convince me.
I was trembling more than ever, and my eyes were filled with tears.
Eventually, I hugged the gutter, knowing full well that a false step would send me falling to certain death. I dangled one leg, but, in that position, I couldn't find any support under me.
'Grab the gutter with two hands,' Odile called out again. 'Then swing a bit. You will find the ivy!'
I did as I was instructed. If I were to retell every little movement, all the thoughts that ran through my head, Odile's words of encouragement and my cries for mercy, I would need more pages that I can spare. Suffice to say that it took me a long while to find the courage to let myself dangle, holding the gutter with my aching hands, to swing back and forth in search of the wooden frame, and to finally set foot on one of its slats.
Then, it became possible to climb down, even though the old ivy had grown so thick and wide to leave little room for my hands and feet.
'Finally!' Odile said when I reached the ground.
I was trembling like a leave and my whole body ached from the tension and the fear.
'There are no leaves here,' I said.
Odile laughed:
'I had to tell you something. Didn't I?'
I couldn't find words apt to convey my anger at her flippancy.
'Let's go!' Odile said, grabbing hold of my hand.
She then started to walk briskly across the lawn until she reached a little country road that ran at the back of the institute.
The grass under our feet was wet. With each step, I could feel the night dew impregnate my stockings.
'Where are we going?' I asked her.
Odile shooshed me, then, having stopped at the edge of the road, she called out:
'Coo-coo! Coo-coo!'
She waited a moment, then called out again.
'Coo-coo! Coo-coo!'
Far away, I saw a little light turn on.
Odile elbowed me:
'Here we go!'
I was then surprised to hear the sound of wheels rolling on the ground, making pebbles crack under their weight, and the clapping of hoofs.
'What is it?' I called.
'You'll see,' Odile replied.
'You're early,' a voice said.
It was a man on a small cart, pulled by a single horse.
'I have a friend.' Odile said.
The man laughed merrily:
'Jump on.'
Odile and I sat on the cart. My friend sat in the middle, between me and the man. The man clicked his tongue, and the horse began to pull us.
'I might get expelled…' Odile said with some sadness in her voice, as we drove along that dark road, headed who knows where.
'Wouldn't that be a pity,' the man replied.
Odile pondered:
'I don't know. Father threatened to send me to a mental asylum, if I can't finish the year.'
The man then said:
'That wouldn't be a fatherly act to put you in such a place… you might scare the poor unfortunates who inhabit it!'
He laughed raucously at this joke.
Odile laughed too.
'So, who's your friend?' the man asked.
'My name is Eloise,' I said.
'I'm Bernard,' he said. 'Would you ladies like a sip to keep you warm?'
He then handed Odile a flask, from which she drank.
'What is it?' I asked.
Odile laughed and passed me the drink.
I smelled the opening of that bottle. The vapours of the spirit within made me recoil, as if I had burnt my nose on a flame.
'Drink it up,' Odile said.
I took a sip.
I wasn't used to such strong liquor, and I gasped for air as it flowed down my throat.
Odile and the Bernard chatted amiably, taking turns in drinking from the little flask. Meanwhile, we came into view of a small village.
The horse took us to a house, narrow and crooked, squashed between two constructions similarly shaped. The whole street was flanked by two rows of buildings of this type. The facades were crossed by dark timber beams that held the construction together. These houses appeared incredibly old, curved and warped by the centuries, and I found it surprising that they still stood, or that anyone lived within them.
Bernard opened the door and walked upstairs.
Odile held my hand and pulled me inside.
We walked up a flight of narrow stairs, with steps unevenly spaced, so that more than once I lost my balance.
I then found myself in a small living room. A sofa, a table with four chairs of different shapes, a little kitchen, a fireplace with no fire, and, on a shelf, a vase with no flowers.
On the sofa, were two young men.
Bernard was a man of about five-and-twenty. Rather slim with a pale complexion and blonde hair. He wore simple clothes, which made me guess he was not well off. He had a pleasant face and easy manners.
He introduced the company:
'Guys, here is a new friend, Eloise. Odile, you know her. Ladies, these are my friends: Mr. Pepin and Mr. Bad Leg.'
I studied these two gentlemen. They were the same age as Bernard, but they dressed more elegantly and spoke in a more refined way. They were in great spirits, and they appeared to be ready to laugh at anything.
I noticed a bottle on the table and two empty glasses.
Even though Berard treated these two men with great familiarity, I had the impression that Bernard, Mr Pepin, and Mr. Bad Leg were no more than casual acquaintances.
'Ladies, please take a seat,' Berard said.
Odile sat on a chair and, eying the bottle, demanded:
'A glass, dear friends!'
Mr. Pepin and Mr. Bad Leg looked around, unsure.
Bernard, probably more familiar with this roof, took two glasses from a cupboard and poured two glasses of wine for me and Odile.
I sat at the table, a little unsure, but quite intrigued by being surrounded by men after a few months of the monastic life we lead at the institute.
Bernard went into the next room and came back with a fifth chair, so that we could all sit around the table.
Then, he invited us to make a toast:
'To new friends!'
The wine, which was dark and quite sour, combined with the eau-de-vie I had on the way filled me with a pleasant warmth, so I demanded a second serving.
The men laughed at this request, joking that the teachers at the institute liked to keep us young girls thirsty, then they all poured themselves another drink, and we made another toast I remember not to what.
'Eloise, do you enjoy a game of cards?'
'I know Papillon,' I said.
Everybody laughed again, for this was a game for children.
'Do you know Trentuno?' Mr. Pepin asked.
I said I did not.
'It's similar to Commerce. Why don't we show you?'
I found this quite a good way to spend an evening and said I would very much like to learn it, if those gentlemen would have patience with me.
Bernard produced the deck of cards, and he dealt the players their hands.
As he did so, both Mr. Pepin and Mr. Bad Leg tried to explain the rules of the game.
The instructions given by these two gentlemen were so confused, and they spoke over each other, that I struggled to understand the purpose of the game. I didn't really mind, as I felt that I could learn as the game proceeded and felt no embarrassment at making mistakes before my new friends.
As we played, the men asked me and Odile about ourselves, where we came from, what the institute was like, and, now and then, laughed at what cards we put down and begged us to reconsider our choices.
As the game progressed, the bottle was soon emptied, and Odile begged our host to refill her glass. Another bottle was produced, and, before long, a third one appeared.
Odile was sitting next to Bernard, and she often leant her head on his shoulder. When he protested that she was spying on his cards, she kissed him on the neck or pinched his flank, and he would let her be.
I was surprised by this confidence, but I remembered that Odile had told me she had regularly walked out of the institute while the girls slept, and I now realised this was the place she had been going to. So, it seemed natural to me that she had formed such an attachment with this young man.
Mr. Bad Leg seemed to be winning, so that, at some point, Mr. Pepin extracted his pocked watch from his waistcoat and said:
'I can't believe I now need to part with it…'
I interjected that we were among friends, and nobody was keeping tally.
Once again, the company laughed heartily, which made me realise that I had been mistaken, and that everyone, except for me, had a clear understanding of who had won, who had lost, and who owed what and to whom.
The hour was now very late, and Odile said she wanted to rest a little before Bernard accompanied her back to the school. So, she stood up.
I stood up to follow her, but Odile said, in a grumpy tone:
'Where are you going, Eloise? You owe these gentlemen fifty Franks.'
'But I have no money with me,' I protested. 'Moreover, you cannot expect me, who knew nothing of this game, to have any hope of winning.'
Odile regarded me with some annoyance:
'You have had your fun. You have lost. I'm sure you can find a way to repay your debt.'
And with this, she walked into the next room.
Bernard made to follow her and added:
'The wine would be five Franks, but I ask nothing.'
I thanked him for this.
'Don't worry,' he then said, 'your friend too has lost tonight, and she has drunken, and I do not give credit.'
He then disappeared into the other room and closed the door behind him.
'Why don't you sit next to us, Eloise?' Mr. Pepin asked me.
He and Mr. Bad Leg were sitting on the sofa.
I stood up, realising now how unsteady I had become from all the wine I had consumed. My head was spinning a little, but I was in that state of great elation that follows a good evening of copious drinking, spent in good company.
Mr. Pepin and Mr. Bad Leg looked rather distinguished, wearing clothes of rather good cut and quality. Both of average built, both with dark hair, the first with a rather square jaw, a thick moustache, and a martial look, and the second with softer features and a younger appearance given to him by rosy cheeks and a clean lip.
I then sat between these two men.
Very rapidly, Mr. Pepin put a hand on my right thigh, caressing it with some impudence.
'Monsieur,' I protested, still laughing from all the fun we had during the game.
But he didn't appear as jovial. Instead, he regarded me with some insistence.
I was about to say something, when I felt Mr. Bad Leg's hand on mine. I turned towards him, and he too had taken a more serious demeanour.
'Eloise…' he began. 'I am much inflamed from all the wine, and from having looked at you all night.'
Mr. Bad Leg then moved my hand onto his crotch.
This shocked me, for he appeared the least forward of the two.
Mr. Pepin then, seeing what his friend was doing, began lifting my skirt and ran his hand up along my thigh.
'My good friends,' I said. 'I cannot say I'm not flattered, but I didn't expect this conclusion to our evening.'
As I spoke, a great volley of laughter burst out of the next room.
'See, your friend is not so slow in repaying her debt,' Mr. Bad Leg said.
'Fifty Franks,' Mr. Pepin whispered to me, caressing my thigh and moving up towards my most tender parts.
I hadn't been pleased in quite some time, and I can't say I put up a big fight. The two gentlemen were quite good looking, and novelty of their company had amused me greatly.
'I don't have any money on me,' I replied quite innocently, even though I well understood what currency these men were trading.
Mr. Pepin removed his hand from under my skirt and undid his trousers, revealing his erect penis.
'Eloise,' he said, 'we can find a way to extinguish your debt.'
'What are you doing? Have you no shame?' I said, feigning great surprise at this indecency.
'What about you, my friend?' I said turning towards Mr. Bad Leg, even though he was pressing my hand on that part of his pants where the two legs meet, and I could feel through the fabric a sizeable erection.
'I too am happy to relieve you of your debt… If you're happy to relieve me.'
I laughed at this drole sentence.
'I see I have no escape,' I said, smiling now to one, now to the other. 'What would you like to do?'
'I see my friend has already given you a hint,' Mr. Bad Leg said, meaning Mr. Pepin's visible erection.
'What about you?' I asked.
So, he too unbuttoned his trousers and revealed his dick.
The two gentlemen now stood before me, and I had to kneel down, so that I could hold both dicks in my hands. I began to stroke them, trying to keep the same rhythm with both hands, to deliver equal pleasure.
Their dicks felt warm in my hands, and, if I squeezed them a little, I could feel them throbbing between my fingers.
The contact with these organs now filled me with excitement. I looked up at the two men, who now watched me, now closed their eyes as the pleasure increased, now looked at one another, exchanging knowing looks of approval.
'May I lick them?' I asked them with put-on shyness.
I then gave a little kiss on the tip of Mr. Pepin's dick. Then, I did the same to Mr. Bad Leg's organ.
I masturbated them, studying how their glans peaked through, as the foreskin receded with each gentle stroke.
I licked each shaft eagerly, from the base, where that soft pouch hangs, to the tip. Then, I put Mr. Bad Leg's cock in my mouth and began sucking it, moving back and forth, while still jerking off Mr. Pepin.
I was careful not to prove too eager and to make any of these gentlemen come too soon.
After a while, I diverted my attention onto Mr. Pepin's dick, which I too sucked voluptuously. The organ of this man was a little thicker than that of his friend and I struggled to fit much of it in my mouth, so that once or twice I wretched, as its tip touched the back of my throat.
'Oh, what a whore!' this man said at this sound.
'She wants to swallow it all,' the other said.
We didn't continue in this position for long, because Mr. Bad Leg declared:
'I cannot wait any longer! Let's see what's under that skirt.'
So, he freed himself of my hold.
I went on all fours, so that I could still suck his friend, while Mr. Bad Leg lifted my dress.
He lowered my undergarments, so that my rear and my pussy were now free for him to peruse.
'Oh, what nice ass: small, and yet soft; and this nice plum between her thighs, so fleshy and plump!'
He parted my butt cheeks with his hands, then I felt his tongue lick me slowly, moving from my clit all the way along that ridge where the labia meet, parting them as he moved down, and then hitting my perineum. He felt the elasticity of this piece. He then gave my butthole a deep lick.
I wished he had worked on me a little more to raise my passion, but he was so inflamed with desire that, after a moment, he had his dick pressing against the tight opening of my vagina.
He gave a little push, and I moved back towards him, so that his penetration was made easy.
I was now being fucked from the rear and from the front. As I moved back and forth, I now met one dick, now the other.
I somehow found this quite comical, as I imagined myself a duck on the spit, prime for the roasting.
And what a roasting!
I was now ablaze. I aided my pleasure with my hand, also caressing and even grabbing hold of Mr. Bad Leg's balls, which forced him to remain within me a moment longer.
'My friend, you are now sharing your good fortune!' Mr. Pepin said at one point.
'One forgets anything when he's inside such a great beaver,' Mr. Bad Leg said, feeling my ass with his hand.
Mr. Pepin took his dick out of my mouth and walked around me.
'Watch how she takes it,' Mr. Bad Leg continued.
I turned my head and smiled at the two gentlemen, but Mr. Bad Leg gave such a push, which produced such a great reaction in me, that I closed my eyes and cried greatly.
Next door, we could now hear the cries of pleasure of Odile, who was also repaying her debt with Bernard.
Mr. Pepin too now caressed my ass, probing my anus with his thumb.
'Mmmh!' I moaned.
Mr. Pepin slapped my ass and said:
'My turn!'
I felt Mr. Bad Leg's cock slide out of me, but, very quickly, a second dick, that of Mr. Pepin, move in.
This other gentleman had a much more forceful style, and he fucked me in such an assured way, penetrating and probing me so, that I knew I was about to come.
'Oh, my God!' I gasped.
But now, the other dick was in my mouth. Mr. Bad Leg was holding the back of my head, pushing me down on his dick, so that I would swallow it all, without any ability to rest or to dictate the pace.
'Come on!' Mr. Pepin cried from behind me, slapping my ass once more.
'Mmmpf!' I mumbled.
Then, Mr. Bad Leg's dick was down my throat.
As one moved out, the other moved in, so that I was like a pendulum between these two points.
Mr. Pepin was holding my ass cheeks apart, so that he could penetrate me fully. He was also keeping his thumbs close to the ring of my anus, so that he could watch it gape open, as he was fucking my pussy.
That view must have been very pleasing to his eye, even though he didn't attempt to peruse that narrower and unnatural opening.
Being used in this manner pleased me greatly: I had been turned into a receptacle for these men's pleasure; my body was at their mercy; and I had no option but to take what they willed on me. I then came again, although I doubt these men noticed, as I couldn't make any sound except from some horrible gurgles, that seem to please my friends greatly.
Both men were now close to orgasming too, and soon they asked me to once again kneel before them, so that they could relieve themselves into my mouth.
'There are enough bastards in this World,' Mr. Pepin declared.
Both glandes were against my open mouth, almost toughing one other. Each man was stroking his shaft until, in concert, they both squirted their load into my mouth, mixing their sperms on my tongue.
I held my mouth wide open, smiling at them, grateful for the pleasure they had provoked me and happy to have pleased them in turn.
As they came, I massaged my pussy from the rear, moving two fingers in an out of that opening, almost to replicate the sensations that Mr. Pepin and Mr. Bad Leg had given me that evening.
'Don't get rid of it,' Mr. Bad Leg instructed me.
He than give me a hand, lifting me up, quite gallantly.
He then got his lips closed to mine and opened them. He then kissed me, and I understood he wanted me to pour the content of my mouth into his.
Mr. Pepin guffawed at the look of his friend drinking up the load the two friends had just ejaculated.
We then rested a little longer on the sofa. The men ran their fingers on my dress in slow, lazy movements.
'I haven't even seen your breasts,' Mr. Pepin lamented.
'They look with large,' his friend added.
'That will cost you more than a few Franks,' I joked.
Finally, Odile emerged from the next room, lumbering with heavy steps, and massaging her behind.
'I didn't think I owed you that much,' she joked.
She sat at the table and drank another glass of wine. She then lay her head on the table and began snoring.
Bernard looked at me and said:
'You will need to give me a hand.'
So, Bernard and I carried Odile, he holding her head, and I her feet, down the stairs. He heaved her onto the card, and the three of us drove back to the school.
Bernard didn't say a word, having lost his previous gayety, and appearing now weary.
I too was quite tired from the effort and the late hour.
'You'll have to carry her back. I'm done: I must go back home,' Bernard said.
I protested, saying:
'She's too heavy.'
So, Bernard gave Odile two big slaps on her face.
'Wake up!' he cried.
Odile, in her stupor, protested, but she appeared somewhat revived. She and I walked back towards the school through the grass expanse, saying nothing.
I was now wondering if her fight with Juliette would really result in the expulsion of Odile. Was I really about to lose the only friend I had been able to make in that place?
I wanted to ask Odile to apologise to Juliette, or whether she could ask her father to write to the Headmistress, and what my friend would do if they expelled her, but I kept my counsel, sensing my friend had no intention of discussing the matter.
When we arrived at the large construction, I said I didn't feel equal to the task of climbing the ivy.
'Why don't we try the front door?' I asked.
'The front door?' Odile wondered. 'I have never tried it.'